Last Wish
by Primordial Falls
Summary: He feels himself drifting away, slowly but surely. His twin tries to help, yet he himself knows that his death is something imminent and unavoidable. He has never blamed his twin, although they both know that this hapened because of him...


Hey, Shimmer here. Completely random and fresh out of my insane brain! Enjoy. Special-ish message at the end. Review and tell me how to improve! Forgive any errors or inconsistencies! –bows-

Inspired by leshamarieinuyasha's fanfiction with the same song used and permission by her/him granted.

Song: Proof of Life by Rin Kagamine, a Vocaloid.

Characters: Kaoru (dying, in case it's not clear) and Hikaru (living)

~ShimmeirngWintery-chan

x-x-x

_The wind's voice tells me of winter  
>My body shivers as I listen<br>You're right next to me  
>Your breath seems white and cold<em>

The wind whips across his face. It seems to whisper the fact that the season had turned, that leaves have fallen, that trees are blanketed by the frosty snow. Of course, he can only depend on his hearing to know this. His blank, silver eyes turn toward a family, happily laughing.

He had lost his sight when he went to save his beloved twin. He remembers that he had loved him, yet they both knew that it was never possible. The house had been ablaze. His beloved twin had fallen, too terrified to move. At that time, he had only his reflection's well-being on his mind. He had run in, saved his twin by throwing him out the door, into the frost covered ground. However, just as he stepped toward the door as well, a part of the ceiling had fallen, coincidentally impaling his eyes. He shivers as he is brought back to the present. A warm hand supports him from behind. Instantly, he suppresses that feeling, taking in _his_ reassuring warmth.

His twin had taken care of him ever since. Although he didn't show it, he just _knows_ that the other side of him blames himself for his inability to save himself. After all, they _were _two halves of a whole, completing each other. It was no surprise that he, the more perceptive one, had developed the ability to read his shadow's emotions.

We're home now, his mirror image says. Is it him, or does his loved one's breath feel colder, perhaps even regretful?

_Life has withered away, too, this year  
>Before long, I've grown impatient for spring's arrival<br>While listening to the chains of life  
>Continuing to bud in the light<em>

They had just returned from a festival when the bad news struck. Another raging inferno had claimed their parent's lives, who had died when the private jet was set aflame by saboteurs with eyes after the inheritance. The shadow had been full of grief, but pushed it aside to care for his crippled, useless brother who deserved nothing other than pity. Their parent's death had left them a house to live in, to seek comfort with. He hates winter, unlike his reflection. It brings back too many memories. He breathes in the scent of arriving spring, once more patiently awaiting its coming.

Peals of laughter rouse him from his slumber on the king-sized bed. His brother had adopted two children, Fuyu. Whom his brother had named, the rapidly maturing boy, and Funsen, whom he himself had named, the quickly maturing young woman. The identical twin who possessed his sight showered them with affection while the blind one comforted them when something went awry.

_My fate continues to rot away  
>I understand, but I remain strong<br>I want to breathe, I want to sing_

Yet again, bad news hits them. The children had died in a restaurant, where a gas explosion had taken place. They couldn't even find their bodies. However, his condition worsens, with only a month left to live. He understands, he puts up a strong façade in front of his brother. However, one day, he will be hooked up to an oxygen tank with an oxygen mask over his face. He cannot breathe true air, only artificial substance. His beautiful voice, as he is told by his brother, will be gone soon enough. He understands, yearning to sing.

_It would be good if I can leave something behind  
>That says I have lived… a proof of my life<em>

He has nothing special, only a blue velvet box that contains a beautiful, handwritten note from his brother. He takes it out form the drawer, clenching it tightly in his fist, willing himself to survive long enough…

_I don't want to sing a sad song  
>Hey, I'm begging you, right now my only wish<br>Is to laugh next to you  
>I want to sing a gentle song<em>

His vocal chords are completely gone. He cannot sing, cannot whisper, cannot reassure anymore. He can't laugh, like any other person. His career is destroyed entirely. He pulls out the box, holding it close to his heart, closing his eyes, transferring all his happy memories into that box. He puts a lock on it and wears the key around his neck. He hesitates slightly before thrusting his only wish into the box: to be able to _laugh_ with his love. He opens his mouth, summoning his will, trying to sing a song, that last one that he had ever sang for his beloved.

_Several winters passed by  
>I finally realized this feeling<br>I can't say it out loud but  
>Our hearts are always connected, right?<em>

He cannot believe it. He survives, not without a stabbing pain in his heart with each and every winter. He finally admits it to himself. He _loves_ his brother, not in a brotherly manner, but a romantic one. He opens his mouth, trying to speak the three words that would let him pass peacefully, yet cannot. So, he sends it through his heart, hoping that it takes the right route, straight to his brother's heart.

_It's dark, I can't see anything…  
>I can't hear anything…<br>It's scary…  
>It's painful…<br>It's lonely…_

He accepts it; he cannot see, cannot survive without another. He loses his hearing, a sign that he is going to leave soon. He's afraid, since his brother is away, earning the necessary money to survive, unable to comfort him. He knows that this would happen, yet it still hurts. Why, he asks himself, does it hurt. Why does it scare him. Why is he feeling completely alone, without anyone by his side. The answer is simple. The bridge had broken when they had argued one day. Naturally, he had apologized, and they worked together to build the bridge again. This time, it's unstable, breaking at even the gentlest, feather-light touch. It's clear to him: the message has not and never will get there.

_While everything in me  
>Continues to disappear<br>Your smiling face  
>Still lingers…<em>

He is stuck in the hospital, unable to even move. He has been injured in a car accident, his left lung is gone. However, his sightless eyes see his smiling brother once more, and he clenches the velvet box, which he had never let go of through the whole thing, infusing himself with hope. The image is fortified, it is obvious, and it will never disappear, even when he brushes through the barrier to the other world.

_You are singing a gentle song, right?  
>Even though we're wrapped up in this world of loneliness<br>I'm always beside you, don't forget  
>You are never alone<em>

Even in spirit, I will be beside you. I will never let go. If I die, take the box, open your heart and take what has been left behind, he writes on the board given to him by the hospital. His brother whispers the song which he himself had sang so many years ago into his ear. He cannot hear, yet understands: it is _the_ song. The one so full of love, so full of life, of vibrancy. No one else would help them, that was clear. For the first time, the two were truly and absolutely alone.

_I'm not lonely because you're here  
>You embrace with your warm hands<br>I can't hear you, but I understand  
>The hands that you hold me said "I love you"<em>

The twins are together on the same bed in the same hospital. The warm one embraces the cold, nearly empty shell next to him. Warmth engulfs the shell, bringing it back, even if only for a moment. The cold one understands that his twin has reciprocated his feelings, that his twin loves him as much as he does. I love you is whispered again and again into the icy body's ear.

_I do not want to sing a sad song  
>Hey, I'm begging you, my only wish right now<br>Is to laugh with you  
>I want to sing a gentle song<br>I want to dedicate it to you, a song of parting  
>In my last moment, I want to tell you…thank you<em>

He cannot sing, cannot speak, and cannot laugh. He writes something down on a piece of paper weakly, the last song he will ever write, dedicated to his brother. It is a song full of hopes, full of dreams. A single tear trickles down his face, blotting the dot on the last thing he will ever write on the paper. Mustering his last strength, he looks at the box. He slips the paper inside along with a note. He looks at the still, sleeping form of his brother. He smiles weakly to himself. He knows that it is time to go into the arms of the other world. He closes his eyes and feels the passing through the barrier. It showers him with comfort, promising that he would be alright. The mirror is thicker than he expected, the journey calmingly slow. Warmth infuses his soul. Wait, he whispers to the barrier. It pauses momentarily, granting him one last thing. He knows it will hurt, yet he does it. Forcefully, he pulls his heart out of his chest.

He screams soundlessly. Slowly, the magic within the barrier heals him, yet leaving one piece of him into a velvet box. His heart beats within the box, full of his hopes, dreams, emotions and gratitude. He hopes his brother will do as he had instructed, so that he understands. He finally passes through to the other side, the barrier blessing him with well wishes, into a wonderful place where he can see, sing, laugh and speak all he wants. His children are there, as are his parents. That place could only be one place.

Heaven.

x-x-x

Written in thirty minutes, so it was not really too good. In my opinion, of course! I'm accepting requests, any rating, any plot. However, priority _will_ be given to, in this order:

-Twincest with no spelling or grammatical errors and a pretty good one-shot plot

-Good one-shot plot

-Twincest with no spelling or grammatical errors

-Twincest

- Spelling and grammar errors with a good plot

-Spelling and grammar errors with a not so good plot

I ran out of ideas, haha!

Oh yes, also somewhat first-come-first serve!

~ShimmeringWintery-chan


End file.
